


Saving Loki

by anonniemoose



Series: SPN OneShots [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Wings, Brotherly Love, F/M, Fluff, Gabe needs a hug, PTSD, Recovery, Spoilers for Season 13, Torture, Trauma, and some repairs on my heart post hammer of the gods because i'm still but by that, angry lucifer because his brothers hurt, but repairing broken relationships, i needed some feels, like no incest, lucifer being a protective brother, not quite an angel but not human!gabriel, talks of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonniemoose/pseuds/anonniemoose
Summary: When Gabriel returned from God knows were and ended up on your front porch, you knew the road ahead was going to be tough, but you knew that out of everybody on this planet, you were the best person to bring him back to health, or as close as he’d possibly get.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @thewhiterabbit42 for letting me bounce ideas with you, even though the conversation was short. This is mostly midnight ramblings because my new meds have given me insomnia and nothing was on telly, and I go back to uni on Monday. Hope y’all enjoy!
> 
> Post Edit Note: I am taking requests (not Dean please), and I can be requested here or if you need/want to chat about it I can be reached at my tumblr (crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard).

_“Brokk grunted and produced an awl, a pointed spike used in leatherwork, and he jabbed it through the leather, punching holes through Loki’s lips. Then he took a strong thread and he sewed Loki’s lips together with it._

_“Brokk walked away, leaving Loki with his mouth sewn up tight, unable to complain._

_“For Loki, the pain of being unable to talk hurt even more than the pain of having his lips stitched into the leather.”_ – ‘ _Norse Mythology’_ by Neil Gaiman, page 50.

You don’t know how Gabriel escaped wherever he was trapped. You don’t know where he was taken, who took him and how they took him, but they did, and it was evident that they pulled a number on him.

Lips sewn shut, his eyes void of the light that shone mischief and adoration whenever they turned to you. His injuries where easy to heal, the physical ones at least. He was jumpy, if a door was shut too loudly or a sudden noise occurred, he would shoot up in the air. If you spoke in anyway besides a low whisper, he’d look at you in fear, something you certainly weren’t accustomed to. The one time you pulled out a knife, he went into a full-blown panic, locking himself in the closet for an hour, which you spent sitting outside talking to him softly in an attempt to calm him.

Can archangels even get anxiety? It was clear through his actions that he had some form of PTSD, and although you have no knowledge of what occurred you could tell what happened was far from pleasant. The reason you didn’t know what had happened?

Gabriel refused to let you unstitch his lips.

The one time you attempted, he tried to escape your house at the sight of the scissors you had placed out; which, in hindsight, was probably the worse things you could have had in your possession at the time. Making a dash to jump out of the window, then leaping over the couch when you ran over to him to make a run for it out the front door. You managed to get him in a circle of holy fire, which set him off even more as you put away all things that even remotely looked like a weapon and entered the ring to console him. He wouldn’t let you touch him, which was unusual. You had to rely on your words and body language to reassure him into a state of calm and you weren’t gonna lie, it was _hard_.

You can remember the state he was in when you came home three weeks ago. Gabriel had been missing for _months_ and you never once thought he had upped and left, but you were concerned what had happened to him. Walking up the stairs with your shopping, you noticed a huddled form laying by your front door. The hair, although longer than you remember and unwashed, was the first give away that it was your angel. But when you turned him over, the face that greeted you was anything but the face of your long-term boyfriend. Bloody, bruised, broken. And those awful stitches in his lips. You all but dragged him and got to work healing his face, him a shell as you worked around him. Then the scissors came out. You had never seen such fight in a man, much less him, and definitely not towards you. The realisation that he thought you were an enemy, there to hurt him, hit you like a ton of bricks. You can remember the feeling of utter dread and heartbreak as the realisation set in and followed by the sudden thought that you couldn’t let him leave the house. Whoever did this could be after him.

The only way to keep him was to trap him. It destroyed you to do it, but you _had_ to. You lost him once, you can’t lose him again.

But he still was a shadow of the man he once was. He communicated in nods and hand gestures, having nightmares daily in complete silence. Needing to sleep at least eight hours daily was new, but you figured it was a part of the healing process. You did so much research on PTSD to find a way to, at the very least, get him to trust you again even if it was to unstitch his lips. You were a witch, and a damned good one too, but you couldn’t find a single spell that could a) undo the psychological injuries done to your archangel, b) remove the stitches without causing a panic attack and c) get him to snap out of flashbacks without causing him even more distress. So, instead, you set up silent alarms to alert you if he was going back into a phase so you could be ready if he needed help.

It tore at you that he always made sure to be on the opposite side of the room, and if you had to approach him you had to do it like you would a wounded animal. You sang quietly whenever he was in the room but avoiding you, in the hopes it would keep him calm around your presence.

Weeks, it took, before you made your final break through.

You had just returned from a supply run, and from meeting up with two hunters that were two towns over who were struggling with a minor case three hours away. You had been gone way longer than intended and had rushed home to make sure Gabriel was okay.

The silence that greeted you as you entered the house was deafening, but had been this way ever since Gabriel’s kidnapping, even post his return. The most you got out of him were small whines of distress and the occasional grunt of thanks when you gave him fresh clothes, changed the bed, cleaned up after a panic attack of his or made sure he had the first shower. The silence, however, would always fill you with dread.

You learnt pretty early on not to announce your arrival, loud noises were still really hard for him. Instead, you’d walk pass all the doors, knocking on them softly until you got a response, letting him know you were home.

This particular day, however, you walked around your house knocking on all the doors that Gabriel was usually in. Not a sound. Dread became panic as you still couldn’t find him. He didn’t have any mojo whatso ever, leaving him defenceless, and he was still incredibly weak.

Rushing down the stairs, you start looking in all the closets and hiding places he may be before a small crash from a forgotten door shocks you to realise you had, in fact, not looked everywhere.

Pushing the door open, you see a slightly startled Gabriel staring at the wooden posts you had left laying in the sunroom that had slowly become a storage room. You breathe a sigh of relief, letting your boyfriend know you were present. He looks ready to bolt as he expects you to become angry at the broken bowl at his feet, it was clear he had been attempting some form of ritual or spell.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. It takes a minute but he nods slowly. “Okay, do you want me to clean this up?” He looks puzzled, another facial expression that was new but a now common one, whenever you didn’t react the way that he expected. He shakes his head before pointing at himself. “Okay, I can get you the stuff to clean it up.” He seemed to relax at that, and then you realise that this was the most relaxed you’d seen him since his return. Sure, he was still tense, but he wasn’t looking for an escape. In comparision to the way he had been, you could call it almost peaceful. Smiling, you come back with newspaper, dustpan and broom and a bag, approaching carefully to give to him. He didn’t even hesitate to take it from you, fingers brushing against your wrist, all to familiar and all to missed electric shocks through your system. You move to sit in one of the wooden chairs in the room.

When you bought this place, you and Gabriel had decided to move in. You had been staying on university campus, where you met the love of your life who was working as a janitor and needed to find a place. Fast. When this beautiful home came up on the market, you immediately fell in love, but the price tag attached was too high and you knew it the moment you walked through the front doors. So, to your surprise and delight, Gabriel went out and bought it for the two of you. You had originally planned to make the sunroom a garden of sorts, with lots of pot plants and a small area for sitting and relaxing. That, however, never happened and the room slowly became more of a storeroom than anything else. Gabriel would always say he could snap his fingers and the room would become what you had intended, with your belongings stored somewhere safe, but you had always insisted on doing it the human way. Which, of course, never happened.

An idea suddenly appears in your mind when Gabriel begins to place the shattered glass that really was only used for spells in dire circumstances on top of the newspaper.

“You know how we always intended this room to become a garden?” You inquire. His head cocks, acknowledging your statement as he strains to find a memory of the many conversations and one particularly nasty and useless argument you had over the room. Finally, he nods. “What if we finally did that? Then, if you are feeling stressed or anxious, you can come in here and just relax?” He seemed to ponder over the idea. “It’ll be your room, the one where I won’t come in unless you ask.” That seemed to persuade him and he nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, when you are ready for the stitches to come out, and to go out to the nursery, we will do it.”

That, you knew, was cruel. Gabriel could barely handle being touched, and you knew the stitches were a sensitive subject. But you a) couldn’t go out with his face looking the way it did, and he hated anything covering his head and b) the longer the stitches were in there, the higher the chance of infection became. You had to try to convince him to get them out.

The panic seemed to set in as he looked over to you, eyes clearly how distressed he was. You looked down at him before moving to crouch beside him. “I know you don’t want them removed, but Gabe, they aren’t good for you. I know they cause you pain, I see that every day. If you keep them in any longer, I’m scared they are gonna get infected and then I’m going to have to take you to the hospital because I wouldn’t know what to do. You know I love you. And you know I don’t want to cause you pain. But they _need_ to come out.” You can see that your mini speech got through to him a little. All you want to do is hold him and reassure him that everything would be alright, but that would not be appreciated. “Do you need to be alone?” You ask quietly. He automatically shakes his head as he wraps up the bowl and places it carefully in the bag before handing it to you. You stand, which he mirrors.

“Can you just…think about it, please?” He nods carefully. “That’s all I ask, love.”

Two weeks later, he approached you with a kidney dish, a sponge that automatically provides you with disinfectant, a pair of tweezers and a pair of small scissors, with a small note. _‘Take them out.’_

Three hours later, and a lot of reassurance, later the stitches were out. Two days later, he claimed to be ready to go to the nursery. Surrounded by the flowers, shrubs and trees he genuinely looked happy and at home. Not that you could know for certain.

He still refused to talk.

You didn’t expect him to become the chatty Cathy he was prior to being taken away, but you expected some kind of verbal response. All you got was whimpers and the occasional moan during flashbacks and nightmares.

But that didn’t matter right now. He will talk when he’s ready. But, this was important, he was out and he hadn’t needed to escape to calm down.

You purchase an unholy amount of plants and materials ready for the sunroom, and you turned around to find him gone. Panic sets in as you look around, trying to figure out where the hell he had gone so you could coax him home if he needed it.

But, he hadn’t gone far. Seeing your panicked demeanour, one of the assistants moved into help you find him. The both of you cracked a smile when you found him.

There, plastered up against the cake display unit, was your archangel. Shaking your head, you thank the girl who helped you.

“I can tell he loves his sweets.” She teased lightly.

“Yeah,” the grin on your face took over your entire face as you look over at him, “he really, really does.”

You give him more time by, with the girls help, moving your purchases to your car before returning, approaching him slowly. “Well, it’s good to know your love of all things sugary hasn’t left.” You tease gently. The smile he sends your way was a glimmer of the charming and mischievous one he once gave you. “Would you like to grab a couple to take home?” He doesn’t even hesitate. He nods enthusiastically. “Pick out however many you like.”

You ended up leaving with all of them, and an ice cream each.

~~~

The sunroom ended up looking stunning, with a mix of colours, with green taking over the majority of the room. Seven years, eight months in the making and the room was everyting you pictured and more. Flowers, loud and proud, take over a major part of the room but a small garden with strawberries, lettuce and tomatoes in a corner caused you to smile a little. The final touch was a swing, egg shaped chair for him when the attacks set in. As promised, the moment the room was complete, you didn’t step a foot in or near the door, leaving him to his own space. He spent most of his time in that room, stressed or not. He seemed to respect that, and occasionally invited you in to read in the garden with him.

It was weeks later that you brought up the subject of his wings. “They haven’t been groomed in, what I suspect, nearly a year. I just want to make sure they are okay. And you can’t check yourself.” He immediately rushed to his sunroom, and you dropped the subject all together. It wasn’t until six days later, he brought you into the sunroom and gave you a small piece of paper.

 _‘If I’m in here, I don’t think I’ll freak out. My wings, they aren’t the same. But they cause me pain, and I know you can help me. But please, promise to be gentle?’_ You look up from the paper and lock eyes with his golden ones.

“Of course I’ll be careful.” You promise. He nods, lips tightly pressed together before he covers his eyes the pointing to you. Obeying his instructions, you close your eyes tightly to let him show his wings. A small tap on your forearm causes you to open your eyes, but the sight you see causes you to gasp.

The once pure white with golden highlighted feathers were dulled considerably. Parts of his wings looked broken, and they seemed to twitch in fear and recoil as you approach. Patches looked dry, like his oil glands had been clogged or damaged. Rotting, broken feathers litter his wings, and large areas look black and in a state of decay. You nod.

“Do you want to do it all at once, or in sections?” He holds up one finger, the first option. You indicate to the floor. “Why don’t you face the garden so I can get to work?”

He moves to sit on his knees, and you move to sit behind him. He tenses when he hears you approach. You stop. “Hang on.” You instruct as you rush back to the kitchen, pulling out the biggest tub of ice-cream from your freezer and a large spoon from the drawer before moving to grab a massive bowl of water and several towels and a large bag, ready to dispose of the rotting wings. You make your way back, making sure to approach more from the front than the back.

You place the ice-cream in front of him. “Two things you love, sugar and nature.” You tease gently, placing the remainder of your stuff next to him before grabbing the latest book he had been reading, passing it quietly. Finally, you kneel behind him, the closest you had been to him since he arrived on your front porch. Both of you were on edge. “I need you to spread one of your wings, Gabe.” You murmur quietly. It takes a second, and a ton of whimpering, but the left wing spreads obediently.

The amount of work is incredible and almost overwhelming. You move to work on the most important part, the decaying feathers. You wait until you hear Gabriel munching away at the ice-cream before you start, pulling gently at the rotting feathers. A few were still intact in the wing, which was shocking but you managed to remove them with minimal fuss. They automatically make their way to the bag. The stench was incredible, and the more you work the more the worse it seems to get. But you work through it.

You finally find out the cause of the dry feathers. The oil glands had, indeed, been blocked by the rotting feathers and stuff that you couldn’t even begin to identify. You quickly and with an attempt at minimal pain, remove one of the feathers blocking the glands. The overflow of oil was revolting, the smell itself nearly knocked you out and the colour was milky instead of clear. You quickly move to grab the damp cloth and start wiping away at the oil until it appeared clear and was odourless before repeating the process with all the other glands, the sight and smell seemingly getting worse the more you worked until you finally reached the final one, which had an opaque and thick oil ooze out of it as you slowly worked to get all of it out of the gland and out of the feathers.

When you finished, you moved on to the final step. Removing all the loose, broken and fallen feather that had been caught within the wing. The process was quick, and you knew that they were causing him discomfort and itchiness. When you finally finished, you take a step back and look at your handiwork.

The wing looked much better. Still at an awkward angle (that you had discovered that it had, in fact, been broken and healed in a bizarre and no doubt unpleasant position, but you were unable to do anything about that), the wing had bald patches where all you could do was remove all the feathers in sight, but they’d grow back in time. Although the wing still looked dulled, the sheen thanks to the oil gave it a glimmer of what it used to look like. No blackness or decay and definitely no smell.

The bag you had brought in was overflowing with feathers, and the water you had was murky and disgusting. You stood to grab another lot of clothes, fresh water and a new bag when you noticed three things. One, Gabriel had already devoured all the ice-cream and completed his new book, two, his right wing was relaxed and had expanded, twitching no longer occurring and three, he was fast asleep.

You smiled. The amount of trust you had gained over the last few months was finally beginning to show. He showed no signs of nightmares, in fact he looked at peace and almost, dare you say it, angelic. You move to run your hands through his hair, smooth and soft strands gliding through your fingers effortlessly. You knew the second wing was going to be much worse, and you knew you had spent more than four hours on the first but it was worth it just to see for a few moments that he was beginning to trust and be more comfortable with you.

By the time you returned, he was awake and a new pile of books appeared at his side. He looked up to you, a small glint of what you could only describe as happiness shone through his eyes. You smile at him gently, which grants you a small twitch at the corner of his mouth which lead to a small, genuine smile.

“Ready to get started on the right one?” You ask as you move to kneel behind him.

So that’s how you spent the rest of the afternoon. You working diligently on his wing, humming human and angelic lullabies that Gabriel had taught you, him reading book after book, both of you relaxed and carefree in your own little bubble as if none of this had ever occurred.

When you finally finished, you smooth your hands over the top ridge of his wings, moving along them both to find any other inconsistencies you may have missed. Both of them looked a lot better and were fully extended, almost with confidence as they knew you weren’t a threat. “All done.” You inform, standing as you gather the feathers ready to burn them outside.

“Thank you.” You almost jump when you hear his voice for the first time in over a year. Hoarse, barely a whisper. But it was there. “I…I love you.” He managed to get out. You smile over at him.

“I love you too. And you’re welcome.” You move out the door, leaving Gabriel in a state of calm as he puts away his newly cleaned wings, standing to follow you with the rest of your stuff. He looks back over at his garden before smiling softly. He never once was scared when you worked on him. And, out of everything that had happened, that gave him confidence that he was, in fact, healing. He quietly shuts the door before leaving the house to your side as he watches the evidence of his trauma to his wings burn away.

One step at a time.

~~~

You woke with a start, the nightmares of Gabriel being tortured at the hand of faceless demons, archangels and Princes of Hell causing your stomach to drop and harden in panic.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to recenter yourself. The nightmares had become a regular occurrence since Gabriel arrived and you had slowly pieced together what had happened to him. You had gotten yourself into a routine as a result.

Breathe.

Recenter.

Splash cold water over your face.

Have a drink.

Try again to fall asleep.

You groan as you sit up, ready to move into the ensuite to complete your ritual before returning to bed. The cool water makes your hot, sweaty face feel clean and refreshed. Drying your face carefully, you look around for the glass you kept near your sink only to remember the events that unfolded the day before.

You were expected the boys to come along with the details of a hunt they were struggling with, wanting your input. You and agreed that there was some form of witchcraft involved, but there also seemed to be some kind of animal-like attacks occurring at the same time. They were hoping your input would assist with figuring out the case.

You had, unfortunately, no time to warn Gabriel. One look at Castiel and he was gone, ran straight to your room where everything and anything that was breakable ended on the floor in pieces. Including your glass in your bathroom.

The violent outbursts were rare, and never scared you; and to be perfectly honest, you were almost chuffed that he found comfort in your room. It was a step. But explaining to the boys what had occurred without giving too much away, and explaining why you didn’t call them? That had been a challenge. You got them to leave the details of the case and got them out of the house before rushing up the stairs to your boyfriend. He was hidden in the far corner of your bathroom. Carefully, you walked in, mindful to leave all the doors open for a quick getaway in case he needed it. You sat down opposite him, making sure he could see all of you as you talked in the quiet voice that he seemed to find solace in, telling him stories of your life before meeting him, most of which he had heard and a couple he hadn’t. It took two hours, but eventually, he was calm enough to move to sit next to you, arms and legs ghosting next to yours. He gently took your hand and squoze it firmly before letting go, standing up and leaving to grab a dustpan and broom. A silent thank you.

You smile slightly at the memory. Any progress is progress, even if it occurs just after a massive jump backwards. You were happy, at least, that since you worked on his wings he definatley was speaking more. His voice not use to being used was often scratchy, hoarse and quiet, but every day you heard his voice you rejoiced.

You discovered that every time he spoke he always made sure to say that he loved you, and was always antsy until you responded in kind. You figured that he thought that either a) you didn’t know or b) he didn’t say it enough before he was kidnapped, and he was making up for that and for the lost time where he was mute. He had made so much progress, the only thing that occurred now was he was extremely jumpy with loud noises. And the occasional nightmare which sent him running to the sunroom, which he now informed you that you were allowed to come and go as you pleased. You still gave him his space and only went in when you felt you needed to, but to know you were allowed in his space let you know that he was clearly on his way to a more or less complete recovery.

So, quietly so not to disturb your sleeping archangel, you make your way down to the kitchen to grab a new glass. On your trek back up, a slight glow from the sunroom drew your attention.

Being mindful not to scare off whoever or whatever was in there, you entered the once barely used room carefully. The sight that greeted you caused you to smile softly.

Old bed linin had been taken from the linin press and had been thrown haphazardly into what appeared to be a blanket fort, with the fairy lights you had bought last Christmas lighting up the multicoloured fort softly. You get on your knees softly and slowly move forward to look inside.

Sure enough, there in the mountain of pillows surrounded by the gently glowing light, was your boyfriend, breathing softly. It was the calmest you’d seen him in a long while, the light reflecting off his face making him look, well, angelic.

You shift, moving to sit more comfortably whilst being mindful not to touch him, the peace that he was obviously feeling washing over you. It was the first time in a long time that you could just sit, with no worries, no pain and no monitoring his every move for signs of an attack of any kind.

You miss him, even though he was right in front of you. You couldn’t just go up and snuggle next to him like you used to, and you couldn’t initiate a prank war with him anymore. But it was times like this that made you realise that that was all okay, it didn’t matter anyway. Because he was safe.

Bright golden iris lock with yours is what shakes you from your thoughts when you realise that Gabriel was, in fact, awake.

“Sorry.” You offer quietly as you move to get out of his safe space only for a hand on your calf to stop you.

“Stay.” His hoarse voice barely audible as the plea leaves his lips. “Please?” You can feel his nervousness in the air, its thick and it nearly chokes you as you breath in.

“Of course. Of course, I’ll stay.” You motion to him, “How to you want me?” He tugs lightly at your arms, pulling you closer to him until your laying down parallel to him, his eyes locked into yours as you absentmindedly push a strand of hair that you had yet to convince him to cut out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. The small smile he gave you was enough to send your heart soring, relief pooling in your system as he grabs your hand and holds it to his chest tightly.

“I love you.” Was the last thing he said before his eyes close. The only thing that let you know that he was alive was the ever-beating heart in his chest and you realised that, out of everything that you had lost, these were the moments you had gained, and you never wanted to lose. Where you knew that nothing could harm you.

Sure, you couldn’t joke around as you once could, and he rarely spoke, but he was safe. You both were going to be okay.

And tucked away in the small fort located in the barely used room, locked away from the rest of the universe, that’s all that matters.


	2. Saving Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years after finding Gabriel at your front door and a year after you found him in that blanket fort, he has made incredible progress. But, you still don’t know what happened during his time with the dickhead from Hell. Finally, after much convincing from you and Cas, he agrees to tell you exaclty what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there is MASSIVE mentions of torture in here, like I don’t go into too much detail but it is still pretty graphic.

It had been over a year since you found Gabriel in that blanket fort in his garden and nearly two years since you found him on your front porch. Not much had changed, he was slowly becoming more vocal and rarely jumped at loud noises but you still tried to keep them to a minimum. He slowly became more comfortable with you touching him and would often seek comfort from you during his attacks, which occurred less often but still shook him to his very core.

He was a lot more cuddly then before and said ‘I love you’ twice as much as he did before his capture. He loved to go outside but refused to go alone, so if you had to be away from the house you could guarantee that he would be hiding in the garden.

You definitely hadn’t been intimate since his return, but on good nights he’d make sure to sleep in your room, holding you close as the two of you slept. His interest in food had returned and a sudden love of cooking came from that, it always made you smile to see him in the kitchen with the ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron you got him when he first gained an interest.

Things were still hard though. Although he spoke more frequently, his usual light and carefree demeanour had not, and most likely will not, return. During bad days, he wouldn’t speak at all. He still needed to sleep, meaning his Grace wasn’t fully recovered as of yet. When you did share a bed together, he’d often wake up with nightmares which led to you comforting him in the early hours of the morning. Even though he liked you to clean his wings and they had fully healed from their torment, there was little to no sensation in them which caused him great distress whenever he thought about it for too long. A car backfiring, a gun being shot on the television, the sound of something resembling a bone cracking would send him into a pure state of terror and would bolt into the garden and into the blanket for that was now a permanent feature in the back corner.

Your angel was better, but his recovery was far from over.

You had tried to get some information out of him about his time, but he refused. The only time he raised his voice was during the one of the two arguments you had with him within the past twelve months. Your other argument took place over some rather expressive ASL, which could have been seen as yelling but you weren’t so sure.

Gabriel was hesitant to see his brother.

Cas had been calling you non-stop since finding out his brother was alive, at first demanding to see him, not believing he didn’t want to see Cas until you explained that Gabriel struggled with literally everyone, including you at times. Since then, Cas called for updates and to see if Gabriel had changed his mind.

You had tried to convince Gabriel to go see Castiel, at least to assure him that he wasn’t mad at your boyfriend for everything he did, something that you knew at away at him every day. But Gabriel was stubborn, and you didn’t want to knock heads with him but you were getting increasingly annoyed that you were the middle man. So, you convinced him to get a phone and text Cas instead.

It had helped, the online relationship with Cas gave him some comfort, and Cas would often call or message you with advice on how to help him which you were grateful. You may have known your angel for years, but you were still very much in the dark when it came to how to heal and take care of him.

Cas told you how to reset his wings and how to keep them from becoming infected or injured during their recovery, how to make sure his Grace wasn’t leaving him (kinda like a leakage, according to Cas, but with much direr consequences) and even came around to ward your house against angels, demons and all things in-between while you and Gabriel were at the local library. Cas had been, all in all, a massive help. You were way in under your depth, you knew it, Gabriel knew it, Cas knew it. So, you just took it day by day and hoped for the best and when you got stuck, the three of you knew you had someone to call.

You figured that the fact that Cas had been such a massive support and was yet to falter or refuse help that caused Gabriel to change his mind.

He told you as you were grooming his wings, checking for infection or signs of injury that you may have missed.

“I…I texted Castiel.” He started hesitantly, his voice still scratchy and rough, barely above a whisper. You hum.

“That’s not unusual. Did you need help with something?” He shrugged lightly. “What did he have to say?”

“I asked him if he wanted to meet up.” He says, his whole body tensing waiting for your response. You smile at him.

“That’s great Gabe! Where are you meeting him?” His fingers start to tap at his thighs in an attempt to keep calm.

“We were hoping to meet up here so its somewhere safe for me.” You can tell he’s holding something back.

“What is it Gabe?” You inquire gently.

“Can you stay when he’s here?” He sounds ashamed to ask but relaxes as you squeeze his shoulder lightly.

“Of course love. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

So, from there came the preparation and the reassurance that Gabe was making the right decision and the texting Cas and warning him to not just appear in the kitchen but to actually knock on the door, and that Gabe might make a dash at any point which is his cue to leave until he was comfortable again. Three days of this and it was finally D-Day.

The knock on the door nearly sent Gabriel into a panic, but you weave your fingers into his and lock your hands together, squeezing reassuringly. Gabe lets out a few calming breaths before opening the door. There, in his usual trench coat and backwards tie, was his brother. The both of them look at each other unsure, Cas in shock of the amount of scars left behind by his brother’s torture and Gabriel in shock that he actually thought that this was a good idea.

“Cas!” You step forward to give him a quick hug. “Come on, let’s get this started.”

Cas in your open planned living/dining room/kitchen was a weird sight, he just stood there awkwardly looking at Gabriel’s guarded frame. Finally, he opens his mouth. “Hello Gabriel.”

Gabriel takes a moment before his quiet voice responds with a small nod. “Castiel.” You look between the two of them as Gabriel swallows. “You look well.”

“So do you, all things considered.” You roll your eyes at Cas’ bluntness, and Gabriel’s lips turn up in a small, sort of smile, finding his bluntness refreshing. You clear your throat and the two of the boys look at you.

“Gabe, where do you want to do this? Garden, kitchen, couch?” He thinks over it, unsure.

“I believe the kitchen might be the best place, that way if Gabriel feels like he might have a panic attack he can have a clear path to his room.” Castiel offers. Gabriel nods instantly, clearly more comfortable with that idea.

So, there the three of you are. You at the head of the table, hand underneath holding Gabriel’s reassuringly, Gabriel on your right and Castiel on your left. Silence ticks over the three of you as your angel collects his thoughts.

“I….I don’t know where to start.” He finally admits. They both look at you, Castiel unsure of what to say or how to prompt and Gabriel completely and utterly lost. You lick your lips and hum.

“How were you taken?” You finally ask. Gabriel thinks over his answer before answering.

“I can’t remember where I was.” He answers honestly. “My memory is a bit shady. I think I was doing an errand for you. But I remember suddenly ending up in a holy fire circle. Then, I was stabbed with an angel blade by some demon.” His shoulders start to shake. “I think I died, at the hands of some black-eyed-” He takes a calming breath, trying to recenter himself. “When I woke up I was in a cage in some part of Hell. There was some kind of warding on the walls and bars, every time I touched them I got burnt.” Cas looks at him curiously.

“You were stabbed by an angel blade, you died, and yet you are alive now?” He asks in confusion. Gabriel scoffs.

“Angel blades don’t kill archangels, not properly anyway. We die until our grace repairs itself and our vessels. Whoever caught me must of figured that out.” His gaze doesn’t leave the table. A few more seconds tick by.

“Who captured you?” Gabriel shrugs at Cas’ question.

“Never did catch his name. Looked like the evil version of Cornel Saunders.” You hear Cas’ sudden intake of breath, as if he knew who your angel was talking about.

“What did they do to you?” You ask quietly, his hand automatically squeezing yours tightly.

“A lot.” His voice seems to be sarcastic, the first time in a long time. “First thing they did was snap my wings and pour them in holy oil before setting them alight.” You could hear Cas’ sudden intake of breath, clearly understanding the pain it must of brought. “They did the usual stuff, flayed me, whipped me, even waterboarded me.” He swallows, clearly trying to avoid looking at you in particular. “They’d, uh, they’d change their appearance to look like you and say that you never loved me. Said that I was useless and a coward because I hid all those years. They’d kill me, wait for me to wake up and kill me again. They made hellhounds eat me, put me inside a large brass thing and roasted me alive. They ripped my feathers and they covered my pore in some kind of wax so they would eventually die and rot.” His voice gets louder and cracks with each torture he experienced is vocalised, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “They told me that they’d kill you and torture you in front of me and make sure you knew it was my fault. I nearly escaped once, and when they found me they destroyed my hamstrings and kept cutting them every time they healed. They poured hot tar over me and my burnt, destroyed wings and covered me in chicken feathers and taunted me about finally having wings that represented who I was. They used a comb to tear away at my body, they-, they-, they-” Your hand moves to grasp at his knee, pulling him out of his tangent, voice now yelling and hoarse from misuse at that volume. He’s panting, clearly upset as tears start to fall.

Meanwhile, Cas just looks at him in absolute horror, in complete disbelief of what his brother had experienced. Gabriel, now slightly calmer, scoffed lightly. “And that was only within the first hundred years.” You and Cas both swallow.

“Cas, could you go grab Gabriel a glass of water? Glasses are in the cupboard just left of the sink.” Castiel stands, clearly ready for a small break as he takes in what was just said. The moment he was gone, you turn to your boyfriend. “Gabe? Do you need to stop, or take a break? You can go into the garden for a while and come back when you are ready?” Gabe shook his head.

“The sooner this is over, the better.” He turned and gave you a watery, small and soulless smile. “I’m sorry, did I go over the top?” You move to wipe away tears with your thumb.

“Never.” You smile back to him.

At that point, Cas returns with the water which Gabriel chugs down. Cas knew about the fact that Gabriel, at this point, was more human than angel but he still looked at his brother curiously as he slams down the glass, jumping slightly at the noise. They both look at you for guidance of what to say next. “Why did they stitch your lips? When did they?” Gabriel’s humourless laugh causes both you and Cas to look at him strangely.

“I guess I became too much of a handful, I never shut up while I was there.” He pondered. “The sound of my voice must have been too grating for them, outweighed how turned on the got with my screams.” He takes a deep breath. “They burnt out my tongue and sewed my lips about half way through my time there.” You close your eyes as you wince. Over 150 years they were sewn together, nearly 151.

“How….how did you get _out_?” Castiel asks quietly. Gabriel shrugs.

“I have no idea. One moment I’m tied in a chair, needles in my brain with my flesh half off my body and the next I’m outside that door, with most of my severe injuries healed.” He trails off, clearly thinking over who helped him. “I like to think it may have been Dad.” He whispers as if he was telling a major secret. Cas nods.

“I agree, it sounds like something he would do.” He says gently. “Are you…okay now?” You can see Gabriel is struggling with that answer.

“No. I…I’m still broken.” He finally says. You can’t help but jump in.

“Gabe, you are not broken. Yes, you still have nightmares and you still have bad days but that’s just life. You are so, so much better than you were two years ago, and yes, you aren’t the same man you once were, but never, ever think that you are broken.” You try not to snap but you knew your voice was a lot harsher than intended. You take a minute to calm yourself. “I’m sorry, love, but you _need_ to know you aren’t broken.”

“Y/N is right, Gabriel.” Cas agrees. “You are far from broken.”

Gabriel is clearly uncomfortable with the words that are been spoken as he shifts in his seat. Cas finally voices the one thing that had been digging him since he first saw his brother over a year ago.

“Why didn’t you want to see me?”

“Ah.” Gabriel starts. “The million dollar question.” His gaze returns to the table, his golden eyes dulled and expressionless. “I didn’t want you to see me like this, or anyone for that matter. And….I didn’t know if I could trust you, not after everything I did to you. You had every right to hate me and want to hurt me.” He admits. “I was, first and foremost, embarrassed. But I was also afraid.” Castiel looks hurt slightly.

“Gabriel, you did some horrific things before joining us and trying to stop Lucifer.” He starts. The glare you send doesn’t deter him from his next statement. “But you are my brother, and no matter what you did, I would never hurt you and I certainly would not use the state you were in against you.” Cas waits a second before continuing. “Is your grace healing?” Gabriel nods.

“Slowly.”

“Do you want me to look into speeding its progress?” Gabriel nods.

“Please.” You look at him, seeing his shaking form. “Y/N?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can I go into the garden now please?” You smile over to him.

“You don’t even need to ask. Go.” With that, Gabriel races to the sunroom, slamming the door behind him. Cas looks at his retreating form before looking at you as the door slams shut.

“Today must have been….taxing for him.” You nod.

“He hasn’t been looking forward to this.” You admit. “He was terrified you’d turn him away and, I don’t know, tell the other angels about his current state.”

Cas looks slightly hurt. “I would never, even if I was in communication with Heaven.” You nod.

“I know Cas but….when you have gone through the stuff he has gone through, your mind tends to play tricks on you.” He hums, as if understanding what you are saying. Suddenly, he stands.

“I believe my presence will aggravate him further. I will take my leave.” He hesitates for a second and you roll your eyes, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you for today, Cas.” You say as you pull him close. “He never talks about it, so it’s a massive step forward and I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s helped him”

“I agree. Did doesn’t seem like it helped him at all.” He states as you both pull away. “Thank you for today, Y/N.”

“No Cas, thank you.” You see him prepare to leave. “Don’t be a stranger now, send us a text if you ever want to pop in.” He nods before the fluttering of wings lets you know he’s gone. With that, you slowly make your way into the sunroom.

“Gabe? Do you want me in here?” Sniffling causes your heart to drop but you wait until you hear his ‘uh huh’ before you walk in. You know instantly he’s in the fort, so you slowly crawl in to be with him. There, in the mountain of pillows, was your sobbing angel. “Oh, angel.” You move to kneel by his head, stroking the hair out of his face which, by the way, he _still_ refused to have cut. “It’s okay, you did _so_ well, I’m so proud of you angel.” He moves so his head is buried into your stomach as hot tears stain your shirt.

“I’m sorry.” He sobs out.

“Why would you be sorry, angel?”

“For being weak.” Your heart shatters as you move to get him onto his knees, making his eyes meet yours. Lifeless. They are completely lifeless.

“Gabriel, you are so, so strong. What you did today wasn’t easy, and I’m so proud of you that you did it. You saw your brother, talked about what happened and not once, not once, did you fall back into the past.” You pull him close, his head facing your neck as tears continue to flow. “Don’t ever think you are week, angel, because you are far from it.”

~~~

Two weeks after your conversation with Cas, Gabriel didn’t speak for two days. But, on the plus side Gabriel was still texting his brother on a regular basis. He even invited him over to view the sunroom, and as Cas left, you could tell how incredibly touched he was that Gabriel let him into such a personal space.

As you were leaving to go for a grocery run, you went back into the sunroom to make sure Gabriel was okay. There he was, contently sitting in the hanging egg-shaped chair with a book in hand. “Gabe?” Your gentle voice pulls him out of his little world. He looks up at you, clearly mildly annoyed that you had interrupted him. “Sorry, good bit?”

“Yeah.” You let out a playfully guilty smile.

“Sorry, I’m off to get some groceries. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He nods. “Alright, I’ll be back in an hour.” He turns back to his book and you close the door quietly.

You didn’t know it, but it would be the last time you see your angel for what would feel like an eternity.

You made it to your local market and had barely made it out of the car before someone pounced behind you, knocking you out cold. The last thing you see is midnight black eyes gazing down at you with a sadistic smile to match.

~~~

You woke up, completely unaware of your surroundings. The only thing you can make out is the sharpening of something metal. You groan, your head thumping in agony as your eyes open, bright lights cause shooting pain through your head.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” The sound of metal on metal stops, and footsteps coming towards you causes you to panic slightly. “Means we can begin.” A rough hand makes its way to your head and pulls you up by your hair, pain shooting through your scalp as your eyes open in shock. The same midnight eyes greet you, the same sadistic smirk promising pain to come. “Where’s your angel boyfriend?” Your mind struggles to make up an excuse.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The sound hits you before the pain. Your fingers on your dominant hand are shattered as the demon tsks.

“Wrong answer.” The knife she had been sharpening moves to point at your shoulder. “Where is he?”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re babbling about.” Your eyes lock onto hers, stubborn. The demon simply smiles and slowly inserts the blade in-between your shoulder and arm, popping your arm from it’s joint, your screams echoing through the warehouse.

“Where. Is. He?” She shouts. “Our boss isn’t finished with him yet.” You glare up at her.

“Eat shit.” You scream as your other hand’s fingers are shattered. The demon walks away, leaving the blade in your shoulder.

“You know, the longer we do this, the more you and your winged rat of a boyfriend will suffer.” She states nonchalantly, grabbing what looks like a nutcracker from her table of torture instruments. “So, tell me, where is he?”

You meet her gaze, smirking slightly. “As if I’d tell you.”

“We’ll see, dearie.” Her voice teasing, as if she knew you’d break.

Your screams never end as she continues her never-ending torture.

~~~

When you didn’t return after two hours, Gabriel was in a panic. He had no idea what to do, and his mind was of no help, mimicking the words the demons said to him so long ago.

_She’s left you._

_Why would she want to stay?_

_You’re broken, worthless, useless. Why would she want you?_

_She has clearly moved on, I mean, why would she stay with a laugh of an excuse of an archangel? If you could call yourself that._

_Stupid._

_Pathetic._

_Weak._

_Broken._

He whimpers as he hides in his blanket fort, unsure of what to do or if he could continue without any support from the love of his life. Right before he was captured, he was going to propose but he held it off when he got home, certain that Y/N would see that he was not the man he once was and leave him for the dust.

But she didn’t and even though she promised him she’d never leave, the fear of it happening was always in the back of his head.

_Disgusting._

_Vile._

_Should just end it all now._

That final one shakes him to his very core, and is so, so tempting at this stage. But, he knew that there was very little that could kill him so that prospect was completely and utterly important.

A small buzz underneath the pillow his head was laying on causes him to startle. The word **‘Cas’** flashes across the screen.

 **Cas:** How are you today, brother?

Maybe…just maybe Cas could reassure him that Y/N was alive and well.

 **Gabriel:** Y/N hasn’t returned in two hours after saying she would be back here at three.

The seconds it takes for Cas to reply is agonising.

 **Cas:** Do you want me to see if I can find her?

 **Gabriel:** Please.

Gabriel had never felt so pathetic after asking his brother for help, but he was desperate and scared for Y/N’s wellbeing. Minutes passed and the longer it took, the more scared he became.

Finally, a knock on the door to the sunroom causes him to jump, and for a second, he thought you had returned. But, Cas’ rough voice enters the room. “Gabriel, can I come in?”

Gabriel climbs out of his fort, already frightened. If Cas was here, the news could not be good. He clears his throat, ready to face the fact that Y/N had finally come to her senses and left. “Yeah, you can come in.”

The look on Cas’ face as he walked into the room was not a good one, his blue eyes clearly in a state of panic. “Gabriel, I couldn’t find Y/N.” Gabriel’s stomach drops.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s warded against me. But I went to the market and looked at the security cameras.” Cas takes a deep breath. “Demons have her.”

With that, Gabriel’s world shatters. He didn’t realise he was on his knees, crying loudly until Cas had rushed forward and put his arms around his brother. “Don’t worry Gabriel, I won’t stop until we find her.”

For some reason, those words weren’t reassuring to the archangel.

~~~

It had been two weeks, but it felt like a million. The demon, who you affectionally named Francesca, simply did not stop. No breaks, not even to wash away the blood you had stained her clothes. The smirking did not stop.

Your fingers had been removed, one by one after your fingernails had been pulled out. You were certain that if not all your bones that most had been broken at least once, your mouth had been burnt out with acid, your eyes had been dripped with venom and your body was covered in lacerations and burns. And, in a sense of irony, your lips had been sewn shut because you would not stop aggravating your captor. Spitting a mix of acid and blood in her face probably didn’t help that fact.

Gabriel would be proud.

You hadn’t left eye contact with the demon, not once, eyes shining in mild amusement. In pain, yes, but amusement that in sewing your lips shut, the demon couldn’t get a word out of you.

“I must admit,” Francesca states as she looks over her tools of her trade, “I’ve never had a victim who was as stubborn as you. I’m almost impressed.” You scoff through your stitches. “This could all end if you just tell me where that blasted boyfriend of yours is-” The sudden shaking and shuddering of the metal structure around you causes her to stop, and you to look around in fear. The look on her face clearly showed that she wasn’t expecting company, and as the two figures appear in a golden light, two shadows of wings appearing on the wall behind them.

 _‘Gabriel!’_ Your brain shouts as the familiar face of your boyfriend appears, Castiel right beside him. His golden eyes are shining in fury as he looks over at you, completely in shock at the state of you before he locks eyes on the demon.

“What did you do to her?” His voice is almost back to normal as he growls out his question. The demon backs away in fear.

“Gabriel, you are, well, you look much better than the last time I saw you.” He growls out at her.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?” His voice is sharp, powerful. The demon is seemingly shaking as Cas makes his way over to untie you from your seat, looking you over carefully.

“She’ll live Gabriel.” He informs him and the smirk on Gabriel’s face almost looks evil. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was Gabriel, you would have been scared as he stalks over to her.

“Well then, I guess that means your death will be a quick one.” He informs the demon lowly.

Francesca turns to run only to run into Gabriel who quickly and without hesitation, stabs the demon. He stabs her so hard that his angel blade not only goes through the concrete floor but also bends under the pressure. He stares at her until he knows for certain she is dead before looking up at you as Cas makes a complete assessment of your injuries, knowing not to touch you more than necessary whilst Gabriel was in this state.

He is at your side in an instant, healing your wounds instantly. You open your mouth and move your tongue, feeling so much better now that you had free movement, your fingers wiggling on the armrests of the chair as you get used to having them back on your body. Your hoarse voice murmurs “Gabriel”, your throat scratchy and sore. You launch yourself at him as he holds you close.

“I’m so sorry, sweets, I had no idea. Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Sweets, I’m so sorry she got to you, I had no idea.” He babbles on as you move to comfort him, pulling back slightly to look at his distraught eyes.

“I’m fine Gabe. Thank you. To both of you.” You look over to Cas, who nods slightly. “But how are you….”

“Back to my former self?” Gabriel looks at you sheepishly. “I’m not. Cassie boy there managed to get my grace back to normal…I’m not fully healed but I’m more the Gabe I once was than before.” You move to cup his cheek lightly, brushing way the tears that were beginning to form.

“Your voice is back.” You offer.

“Yours is gone.” He is almost destroyed by this fact.

“It’ll come back.” You reassure.

“I’m…I’m so sorry I didn’t come with you. That I didn’t protect you.” You stroke his hair out of his eyes.

“You know how you can make it up to me?” His eyes are pleading. “Get a freaking haircut already.”

His golden laugh echoes through the room that once echoed your screams.

~~~

It had been a few weeks after your two-week run in with Francesca, and the tables had turned. Gabriel no longer needed sleep but would still sleep beside you as you suffered through similar nightmares he did in the past. When you zoned out, he was there and during uncontrollable fits of rage when something triggered you off, he was there to heal you and clean up after you.

The blanket fort had become your main source of comfort as he sat with you and waited for you to calm down.

Gabriel still had his moments, and you were there for him, but he was so much better than before. His wings were finally back to their glorious original state, with bright white wings with golden tips, soft and glossy. The main way he’d calm you down was to let you groom him carefully. He was careful with you, and even though his struggles weren’t over, to him you were the priority. If you needed to go somewhere, he always went with you even if the crowds made him jumpy. If you were disassociating, he’d talk to you about his life before you until you snapped out of it, and then he made sure you had a drink and had something to eat. If you went out and were struggling to talk, he’d order for you or drag the conversation away from you and towards him, even if it was making him extremely uncomfortable.

You were everything to him and he was going to make sure you got better. There was only so much an archangel could do, but healing mental health was one of the few things he couldn’t. So, he focused on making you smile. Small, innocent pranks against Sam, Dean and Cas that he knew wouldn’t set either of you off and would make you laugh. Modelling his new haircut for you, which caused you to roll your eyes as he pretended it was the worst experience in the world for him. Making your favourite meals, giving you dessert before dinner, having movie marathons in the blanket fort. Everything and anything to make you feel happy for a short while.

After all, you had spent all that time saving him. Now it was his time to save you.


	3. Saving Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during ‘Saving Loki’, Lucifer could not imagine the sort of pain Gabriel was forced to experience, but during his time sneaking around your home and observing the two of you, he had formed some kind of idea. If he wasn’t so impressed with the way you were handling it, he was sure there would be a massacre. Afterall, anyone who dares to harm his brother deserves the worst kind of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So….because I’m a dork, I anonymously messaged thewhiterabbit42 about writing a fic where Lucifer gets pissed and destroys everything in a rage because #brotherlylove but it came out NOTHING LIKE I WANTED IT TO. Anyway, hope you enjoy it in any case because I’m just procrastinating writing the official Part 3 of this series hereby dubbed 'Saving Grace’ but I’m hoping it’ll be out soon.
> 
> Also, someone requested a fic about Gabe and the reader’s life prior to McFuckFace’s and was wondering if anyone else was interested? If I get enough interest in it, then I’ll write it either before or after Saving Grace…I have thought about adding a french maid outfit into it because elyshakate is a bitch who gives me so many ideas. Love you but God I hate you babe.
> 
> Also! On tumblr (crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard)!!

**Saving Lucifer**

 

To say Lucifer was pissed would be an understatement. Looking over his sleeping brother as he twitches and twists in silent terror, clearly his dreams haunting him.

He shouldn’t be dreaming _at all_. He’s an archangel, sleeping was a human custom that Lucifer never saw the benefit of. But for the past three nights that he has silently observed his terrified brother, it was evident that he was exhausted by the smallest of tasks to the point where he required multiple nights plus a good six to eight hours of sleep overnight. Not that it helped with anything, every moment of every day he was terrified.

His girlfriend was patient, possibly more patient than he would have been. If he had been the one to take care of him, he would have ripped out those blasted stitches from his mouth the moment he saw him. But you? You appeared to be calm, although the rants to muttered to yourself when you thought no one was around suggested otherwise. You approached him with certainty and never stopped speaking, words soft and reassuring. The one time you properly freaked him out, you adjusted quickly. You hid all the sharps that were freaking him out and didn’t even talk about removing his stitches, even though he knew you were dying to. He didn’t need to listen in to the conversations you held with yourself to know that.

The thing that shocked him was the amount of space you gave him. You allowed him to dictate the space he needed when he needed to alone, pretty much everything. You got him to shower without touching him, encouraging him to do things like stand by the window in the sun or watch the TV. He had taken a liking to ‘ _Scooby Do, Where Are You?’_ Lucifer had found, which amused him greatly.

You never touched him, which was shocking. Humans were such tactile creatures, with very few exceptions. He figured that you would have treated him with more….hands on measures than what you currently were undertaking. Don’t get him wrong, he knew that you were desperate to be able to at the very least touch his hand. The few rare moments you snuck into Gabriel’s room during particularly bad nightmares during his naps and overnight to stroke his hair and kiss his forehead as you leave to calm him down enough to sleep left him feeling….comfortable with him in your care.

Not that anyone, no matter how long they tortured him for, would be able to make him confess that.

The thing that got him about you, however, was that no matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t contact those damned Winchester brothers and their pet angel. You were tempted, by his Father you were tempted. But you never went through with it, never getting past typing the first word or first three numbers of their cells before you quickly deleted it and the idea from your mind.

He had come to respect you for that.

He supposed he could leave. The past three days have been…eventful, but he knew he could trust you with the care of his broken but slowly repairing brother.

But he couldn’t.

Not if there was a slim chance that his brother needed him.

So those three days turned into three weeks, three months. He found that you quickly found ways to help Gabriel cope, knocking softly on all the doors until you heard a faint grunt instead of shouting out that you were home, humming and quietly singing to yourself whenever he was in the room in an effort to keep him calm, setting up silent alarms to inform you if he was having an ‘attack’, as you called it, so you could go and talk to him.

Sometimes it would be about your day, others comforting and encouraging him, and others it was the memories of your relationship before this all happened. Funny stories that made him laugh, sad ones that made him close to tears (no, not a single one fell and if anyone saw that, they were lying and were going to be tortured for the rest of eternity). If Lucifer felt guilt over the ‘death’ of his brother back in that stupid hotel filled with the Pagans, after hearing Y/N’s account of the event? For the first time in his life, Lucifer felt guilty and horror over his actions.

He began to respect you, even though you were human. Out of all the apes he had encountered, you were definitely fast becoming his favourite. Clearly, you loved his brother and were good for – and to – him.

When your first major breakthrough occurred, he nearly jumped for joy. Gabriel had broken some unimportant item and when you released that perhaps a garden would be a good idea for him, you struck a deal. Very cunningly too, he thought, even if it wasn’t your intention.

The stitches were out and Gabriel got to go outside. He laughed lightly when you lost him only to find him plastered all over the cake display unit like a three-year-old.

_Only Gabriel._

He still didn’t speak, but the garden looked amazing and Lucifer was impressed how much it helped his brother. He had always loved nature, and this was a fantastic way to bring him back to the present when the past caught up to him.

Lucifer didn’t, however, truly lose it until he saw his brother’s wings.

Decaying, broken, revolting, pus-filled wings that were not even a tenth of what they once were. Lucifer’s wings had been dying since the day he fell, and slowly becoming more and more hellish, but Gabriel’s? After a few months Earth time in Hell? Were way worse.

He didn’t stay to see the grooming process, he very quickly found the demons responsible for _that_ particular part of Gabriel’s torture and proceeded to very slowly, very painfully, kill all six of them. Not one let him know the ringleader of this entire event, but as long as the six of them paid for nearly killing his brother with their antics, he truly didn’t care.

When the boys came to visit, he nearly lost his mind with how far back Gabriel retreated. Y/N handled the situation with grace and care, keeping calm as she instructed the boys on what to do. The look on Castiel’s face confirmed what Lucifer already knew, he had no idea Gabriel was back.

You managed to calm Gabriel with ease, something that Lucifer was always incredibly amazed at. Even when Gabriel was small, once he was worked up in any way, shape or form, he was incredibly difficult to calm down.

When you found him in your room, the both of you were slightly surprised, but you did well to hide it and went in to talk to him about random things about your childhood, several things you had spoken to him about before but Lucifer gathered that you had only had a tiny existence on this earth in comparison to the two archangels in the room so you probably ran out of stories quick.

What surprised Lucifer most of all was how, eventually, Gabriel had moved to be next to you, carefully avoiding all the shattered glass and ceramics so his legs are millimeters from touching yours. Your voice falters before stopping as he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently, and Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly in disbelief at the first contact he had witnessed where Gabriel initiated it himself without prompting. When he got up to clean the mess he had created, Lucifer’s attention drew to you.

Your exterior looked calm as always, but your eyes showed your mind running and racing, planning ahead, trying to figure out a way to introduce Gabriel to Cassie and the boys without a freakout.

So, when you woke up from a nightmare that night, he wasn’t surprised. Lucifer still didn’t see the benefit of sleeping, especially when the two people he has observed sleeping were seemingly being tortured as they did so.

He knew your routine by now. He would be a liar if he said he didn’t find it curious the way you automatically went through your checklist. Breathe deep, meditate, wash your face, have a drink, sleep. He did it alongside with you numerous times to see the benefit but never figured it out. When you looked around your bathroom’s bench confused, trying to find your glass, he wasn’t amused. Not in the slightest.

After all, a sleep-deprived you is not a funny you.

When it clicked and you decided to go down to the kitchen to get a new cup, Lucifer decided to go see how his brother was faring.

He wasn’t in his room.

Panic rises in him as he quickly looks around the second floor of the house. Gabriel had ‘ran away’ early after his stitches were removed, but you found him with ease (in fact, you didn’t even panic. Just stood up, walked out to the car and returned twenty minutes later with a shivering Gabriel), and since then if Lucifer couldn’t find him immediately, his stomach would drop.

He rushes downstairs with such speed that when he grinds to a halt, he slides across the wooden floor right past the living room and into the kitchen where you are standing, staring at the faint glow emitting from the garden room.

The both of you walk in slowly and the grin on your face when you saw the messy and unidentifiable structure constructed of pillows, blankets and fairy lights caused Lucifer to calm down.

When you got down on your knees and crawled into the opening, Lucifer followed in suit. There is where he found his brother, sleeping softly for the first time since Lucifer had seen him sleep, in a nest of cushions and blankets from around the house, breathing evenly and softly. You kneel by him, hands moving to play with his hair, almost with minds of their own, before thinking better of it and resting in your lap. Lucifer wasn’t even sure you were aware of this, you did it often. He figured it was your body remembering the way you used to be able to act around him, prior to McChicken Fried Fuck as you so lovingly call his creation. Humans weren’t awfully creative, but they are amusing.

When Gabriel’s eyes suddenly opened and locked onto yours, you muttered an apology and quickly made way to exit when Gabriel opened his mouth to protest.

 _‘Stay. Please._ ’

If Lucifer had a heart, it would be broken.

He knew that Gabriel had been talking for a few days now, hearing you get excited whenever you marked his progress out loud when you were beginning to think that he was never going to get better. But he never expected his voice to be so…. broken.

Gone was confident, sarcastic, joking Gabriel and in his stead was someone Lucifer didn’t know. Even his begging tone that was hinted in his voice as he asks you to stay was foreign. Lucifer truly didn’t know how to feel.

When Gabriel told you he loved you, Lucifer decided it was enough feelings for him for one day and left the two of you in the glowing blanket heap. After all, the two of you probably deserved some alone time. And McChicken Fried Fuck wasn’t going to torture himself.

~~~

Gabriel was having another nightmare.

This was a regular occurrence, and he wasn’t quite ready to move into the same bed as you even though the two of you often slept in the mass of blankets and pillows in the garden room. Perhaps it was too personal to Gabriel or reminded him too much of what life was before all of….this.

You were forced to leave the house for a hunt, rogue angels had found out that Gabriel was, in fact, alive and wanted to use the remainder of his grace to create more angels. Lucifer was too weak to fight, and if his brother had faith in you then he did too. Besides. If the angels got hold of two weakened archangels, who knows the havoc they’d create? Lucifer loved his brothers and sisters, but he’d be the first to admit that the majority of them were dumb as rocks.

So, with you on protection detail, that left him in the reassurance aisle, something he hadn’t done in a long, long time.

Lucifer sets forward, cooing in Enochian, pulling forward a long-forgotten lullaby he used to sing to his brother. He could see it slowly calming Gabriel down until his breathing evened. Lucifer felt a rare smile grace his lips. He was going to be alright.

 _‘I know you’re there.’_ Gabriel’s once-confident voice rings through his head.

 _‘I’m not surprised. How long?’_ He responds quietly, projecting his voice softly into Gabriel’s mind. He doesn’t even wince.

 _‘Since I showed Y/N my wings. You weren’t so quiet when you left. You’re not as sneaky as you once were, Lulu.’_ The teasing ton is there faintly, but there. Lucifer smiles.

 _‘I blame old age.’_ He could hear his brother’s laughter as his shoulders shake in amusement. _‘Why didn’t you tell Y/N?’_

 _‘I didn’t want to lose you or her.’_ He admits. _‘I thought if I told her that I would have had to have given one of you up.’_ Lucifer hums as he moves to stand. _‘Stay?’_ His voice is desperate as it calls out to him. _‘Please?’_

For the first time since they were fledglings, Lucifer pulls Gabriel into his lap, wings forming to cover the two of them in a safe, enclosed space, away from the world. Gabriel sniffles as he gets comfortable in his brother’s lap. _‘Missed you, Luce.’_

 _‘Missed you too._ ’

Since the Fall, Lucifer refused to let his guard down. But, he felt comfortable doing so now, body calm and relaxed. He was _safe_. He felt….he didn’t know what he felt it was a new sensation, as if his body was being pulled down into the mattress but in a comforting way?

 _‘Drowsiness, Lulu, you’re falling asleep.’_ Gabriel gently informs him. Lucifer hums as he slowly begins to fall. _‘Thank you.’_

_‘For what?’_

_‘For saving me too.’_

_‘Thank you.’_

_‘For what?’_

_‘For letting me be your brother again.’_

_~~~_

When you walk in the room the next morning to find two sleeping archangels, you didn’t even blink. You knew Lucifer was near, or at least some form of angel. Weird little things like food when you hadn’t been shopping or the TV suddenly turning onto a show Gabriel would like whenever he was in too much of a state to work the remote clued you in. So, when this scene greets your eyes, you simply smile and shut the door.

Best to leave your archangel and his guardian alone to sleep for a while longer.

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